And his words, when she nearly ran into him, were: "The Winged Victory!"
Barbara's answer was equally symbolic: "A buzzard hawk! Do you know, I
dreamed we were flying, Mr. Courtier."
Courtier gravely answered
"If the gods give me that dream----"
From the garden door Barbara turned her head, smiled, and passed
through.
Lady Casterley, in the company of little Ann, who had perceived that it
was novel to be in the garden at this hour, had been scrutinizing some
newly founded colonies of a flower with which she was not familiar. On
seeing her granddaughter approach, she said at once:
"What is this thing?"
"Nemesia."
"Never heard of it."
"It's rather the fashion, Granny."
"Nemesia?" repeated Lady Casterley. "What has Nemesis to do with
flowers? I have no patience with gardeners, and these idiotic names.
Where is your hat? I like that duck's egg colour in your frock. There's
a button undone." And reaching up her little spidery hand, wonderfully
steady considering its age, she buttoned the top button but one of
Barbara's bodice.
"You look very blooming, my dear," she said. "How far is it to this
woman's cottage? We'll go there now."
"She wouldn't be up."
Lady Casterley's eyes gleamed maliciously.
"You tell me she's so nice," she said. "No nice unencumbered woman lies
in bed after half-past seven.
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